


Blue Skies & Sunshine

by nautical_nonsense



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura & Keith (Voltron) Friendship, Alternate Universe - The Princess and the Frog (2009) Fusion, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17807297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautical_nonsense/pseuds/nautical_nonsense
Summary: Prince Lance is trying very hard to fix the sticky situation he got himself and new companion into.Keith is trying very hard to keep his webbed fingers to himself and not slap Lance.In which newly transformed frogs Keith and Lance are thrown together in the adventure of a lifetime. To change back into humans they must reverse the spell by the time the clock strikes twelve. With the help of their friends, the bickering pair may just return to their regular bodies, while also finding a little magic of their own along the way.





	Blue Skies & Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> This is something new for me, so I hope you enjoy! I'm trying my hand at a Disney au, specifically The Princess and the Frog. I will be changing the storyline a bit, adding in and taking away characters and whatnot. Drop a comment at the end and tell me what you think!

"Daddy, do stars grant wishes?"

Keith looked up at his father's silhouette against the windowsill. He looked worn and hunched, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. His shoes had holes, his hands were riddled with callouses, and his muscles were constantly aching.

He also had countless laugh lines around his bright eyes, a smile firmly in place on his face like he was born with it, and the most generous disposition any person could ask for.

He was a happy man.

"Babycakes, why do you ask?"

Keith's eyes were wide as he gazed at the Evening Star. "Lura says wishing on stars will make all your dreams come true." Keith said the word 'stars' more like 'thtarths' on account of his two front teeth missing, which made his answer all the more endearing.

His father gave a fond smile. "That's only half of it, honey. You gotta give good work into it too." He ruffled Keith's hair lightly. "Now go on, let your mama tuck you in."

Keith pouted, but trudged to his tiny room where his mother was waiting. Her eyes were soft as she held up a book.

"Your favorite, baby." Her warm smile was everything to Keith.

His eyes lit up and he was instantly beside his mother, pulling himself onto the bed and into her waiting arms. Keith often thought about his mother's arms, how they could hold just about anything; Keith's torso after she chased him around the tiny house, laughing and teasing; the big pot of gumbo that sat perpetually on the miniscule stove top; Keith's father's trembling form after a particularly hard day on the job.

Yes, his mother could hold the world.

"Story, story!" Keith chanted cheerily.

Her low chuckle held a soothing tone, and Keith found himself leaning further back into her chest. "Start where we left off?"

His enthusiastic nod made his whole body shake and almost fall from his mother's lap, earning him a hardy laugh and a ruffle of his unruly hair.

"Ok let me just..." She flipped a few pages until she finally settled on pictures Keith had memorized long ago. That didn't stop him, however, from roving his eyes over each glorious depiction, talking them in.

Keith fell into his mother's sweet pulling voice ten times over. She read deliberately and emotionally, like the story lived inside of her.

"...she gently lifted the creature to her lips, caution thrown to the wind. Hands barely shaking, she leaned forward and-" his mother gave a loud smooch to Keith's cheek, causing him to giggle. "kissed that little froggy!"

Keith threw out a cheer that was almost drowned out by his claps. "Read it again, mama!"

"Not tonight, baby," she laughed. "It's bedtime."

Pouting, Keith saw movement in his peripheral. His father was leaning against the door frame, looking straight out of his own storybook.

"Goodnight, daddy," Keith whispered reverently.

His father's eyes crinkled and he moved to where Keith and his mama were sitting comfortably on the bed. Keith's mother laid one hand on his daddy's wrist, a loving touch.

"Babycakes, why did you ask me about stars earlier?"

Keith shifted. "For our restaurant, daddy. So everyone can taste our food."

His father's eyes softened impossibly further. "Oh, honey. Right now, that's not for you to worry about. But, just know, when the time comes, you may be able to buy that restaurant of yours-"

" _Ours_ -" Keith cut in.

A soft chuckle. "-ours. But remember Keith, anything in this world worth having is worth working for. Passion and hard work are things no one can take away from you. Promise me you'll always keep that with you." He punctuated this with a small _boop_ to Keith's nose.

Keith practically sparkled under his father's gaze. "Ok, daddy. I promise."

After his father left the room, the promise stayed.

Keith fell asleep there, cacooned in arms that held the world, and the promise stayed. 

When Keith woke up the next morning, and the next after that, and the next after that, the promise stayed.

It was a new sense of hope and direction for Keith. The love he felt in that moment with his parents would not soon be forgotten. Neither, he decided, would the promise he had made with the deepest part of his heart, and the brightest part of his soul.

*.• ° •.*

"Have you heard the news?"

Keith was used to Allura's bravado by now so he didn't jump when the restaurant door slammed open.

He could tell the other diner's patrons weren't as lucky as the sound of clanking silverware and muttered curses filled the air. 

Allura paid the glares from the diners no mind as she purposefully strode up to where Keith was collecting his orders from the kitchen window. He turned around, arms lined with trays, to see Allura's beaming face inches from his own. She held a newspaper tightly just below her chin.

"Hello to you too," Keith replied sarcastically. He began to edge around Allura to get to the waiting tables.

"Keith, there's no time for pleasantries when there's _news_ to be shared." She leaned her back over the counter dramatically, newspaper waving wildly.

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Pidge appeared from the back of the restaurant and wiped her hands on her apron systematically. "Did your hair finally start growing a normal color?"

Allura rolled her eyes but clutched the newspaper to her chest. "Oh, ha ha, another joke about my hair. At least mine isn't affected by the humidity." Allura smirked when Pidge stuck out her tongue and patted down her own frizzy hair.

Keith set down one of his trays and unloaded the plates, flashing the diners a warm smile. He turned in the direction of the next table. "Allura. The news."

"Right! The news!" Her eyes lit up and she shoved the paper in Pidge's face, earning a disgruntled sound from the smaller girl. "There is a _prince_ in town!"

Keith and Pidge shared a stone-faced glance.

Allura looked between them expectantly, face falling slightly when they didn't say anything. "Why aren't you as excited as I am?"

Keith hefted the trays back to the service window and picked up a pitcher of water. "Well I guess I just don't see how this affects you?"

Allura's expression turned scandalized. "He's a _prince!_ He's _royalty!_ Does that mean nothing to you? Show some respect!"

"Do you want to marry him?"

"How dare you assume something so shallow of me! A prince is someone to be held in high esteem! I would sooner-"

"You want to marry him, don't you?"

"So much. He's beautiful. If he doesn't love me, I'll die."

Keith gave an exasperated sigh. "Lura, how are you possibly going to swing this?"

"I'm glad you asked, dear Keith." Allura's eyes sparkled. "I'm having a party next week where this gorgeous, gorgeous man will be invited.

Now, Keith had heard many ridiculous ideas in his life. One time, Pidge said she could fit 12 beignets in her mouth at once. Another time, she bet him that she could talk her way into the open trumpet player position in a bayou band. She does not play trumpet.

Maybe all the ridiculous ideas he's heard just involve Pidge.

Hm.

At first thought, this idea of Allura's seemed just as ridiculous as anything Pidge had pitched him before. But the more he considered, he realized that _of course_ this was something Allura could pull off. She was Allura LaBouff, for Pete's sake. She was richer and prettier than any regular girl trying to heckle the prince.

And, yes. She was definitely trying to heckle the prince.

So Keith didn't so much as scoff when he said, "You know Allura, that might actually work."

Allura, who had been starting to look doubtful at Keith's silence, beamed at him. "Really?"

"Really." 

Keith had scarcely set down the pitcher of water when Allura squealed, grabbed Keith's hands, and spun him dizzy.

"Oh, sugar! I'm so glad you think it's a good idea! And you'll be there, too! You have to be! And of course you as well Pidge! I absolutely cannot wait-"

Keith was probably going to puke if they kept spinning. "Lura-"

She gasped and abruptly dropped his hands, choosing instead to clasp his shoulders, hold him firmly at arm's length, and stare into his eyes.

"Keith." She shook his shoulders a little, mouth agape. "Keith. You have to make me your beignets. There's no one I trust more to cater."

Keith's jaw fell on the floor. "Allura you can't possibly be ser-"

"Keith, I know what I'm talking about when I say you're the best cook I know." She reached into her purse and fumbled blindly, pulling out the thickest wad of cash Keith had ever seen, and pushed it at his chest. "Will this about cover it?"

If possible Keith's mouth dropped even lower. "This- this will be just fine, Lura," he replied, a little dumbstruck. "This is it! Oh my God, I'm finally getting my restaurant!" He whooped and Pidge joined in, only to be interrupted by the tinkling door bell. They looked up to see Allura standing in the doorway, manicured hand poised on the frame.

She winked at them. "See you later, darlings! I'm gonna go snatch me a prince." And with that, she was gone.

*.• ° •.*

"C'mon, Hunk! I'm fine! Live a little!"

Hunk's panicked look didn't leave him at the reassurance. "Lance, you're going to get yourself killed."

Lance had to admit, he didn't think this far ahead. But he wasn't about to let Hunk know that. Balancing precariously on the roof of the quaint diner, Lance had to shout over the noise of his ukelele when he replied. "Nothing's gonna _happen_. I am perfectly safe and secure, my sense of balance is impeccable."

Again, Hunk didn't look any less worried. "Famous last words, buddy," he mumbled.

"What was that? I can't hear you over the sound of beautiful music being made." Lance leaned a little further over edge of the roof and heard Hunk whimper slightly. He smirked. _Too easy_.

"Lance I'm serious! Get down from there!"

"La la la la- Hunk it's like you're not even trying." It was true. Hunk was too busy watching what was happening inside the diner to notice Lance being- well, some would call it 'obnoxious', but Lance liked to call it 'endearingly spontaneous'. "As my oldest friend, I would expect more of a protest." He kicked a small pebble off the roof.

Truth be told, Lance wasn't really sure what he was still doing up here. He could've some down 10 minutes ago, but no. At first he was trying to find a better view of New Orleans, but there were a million other places in the city to do that without potentially falling 15 feet and breaking his leg.

No, Lance knew the real reason he was compelled to stay up here, logic and caution thrown to the wind. It was the same reason he did everything; for attention. Lance was the single most dramatic person he knew. The nannies at home knew it. His butlers knew it. His parents knew it. It seemed the only person who didn't know was Hunk. So, finding it fit to remind him, Lance did what any sane person would do to catch their friend's attention: he climbed on top of a building.

Okay, maybe sane people don't do that.

But still.

Lance was only starting to pout when he noticed Hunk's eyes, still trained in on the dining patrons, widen and a look of panic cross his face. His head shot up and he threw a terror-stricken look Lance's way a split second before the restaurant door flew open.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

The ukelele playing guttered, and a startled Lance peered over the edge. A waiter was suddenly glaring up at Lance, one hand on his hip, the other waving a dishtowel, and all around looking menacing. Lance couldn't make out all the details from this height, but it was hard not to miss the bright streak of- _powdered sugar?_ \- interrupting the inky black of his hair.

Lance blinked. He registered Hunk making various wide arm gestures, probably to the point of ' _cut it out_ ' or ' _act natural_ '. Lance listened to neither of those suggestions.

A slow grin spread over Lance's face. "Oh, thank goodness someone is here to save me!" He did a dramatic sweep of his hand over his forehead. "My knight in shining apron. I have been absolutely devastated before you came."

Hunk slapped his hand over his face. The waiter's expression was nothing short of perplexed. Maybe with a hint of anger. Oh, Lance hoped it was anger.

"What? Get down from there, you nitwit!"

"No can do, sunshine! The view is better from up here!"

Ok, now the boy was absolutely fuming. "You're disrupting the patrons!"

Lance just shrugged, already bored with the encounter. He turned his back to the edge and started strumming his ukelele lightly. He heard the soothing baritone of Hunk's voice, probably apologizing profusely for Lance's behavior, per the usual.

Lance glanced down in time to catch another glare from the waiter before he stormed back inside. Whatever Hunk said must've worked because no cops showed up. He grinned. There was Hunk, beautiful, gorgeous Hunk, getting him out of a bad situation. Per the usual.

"Fantastic work Hunk! No coppers, today, my good friend!" Lance took a step closer to the edge, threw his ukelele above his head, and stepped off of the roof. There was no fear from Lance, just an exilerated sense of joy that came with complete trust in someone.

Now, there was definitely fear from Hunk. He managed a strangled yelp before Lance was suddenly cushioned in the big guy's arms, complete with a small _oomph_. A second later, Lance caught his instrument from the air, and plucked the strings, sending a tune into the atmosphere.

"Good catch, buddy," Lance said sympathetically, gently patting his friend's chest.

Hunk, to his credit, looked positively mortified, and only responded with a breathless, "No problem."

Sheepishly, Lance untangled himself from his friend and went about playing his ukelele, turning towards the street in time to miss a glare from the ever-scowling waiter through the window.

Lance was used to winning, and this city was full of people determined to give him what he wished. Breathing a sigh of contentment, he started down the street, Hunk in tow, following the sound of sparkling jazz.

 _Yeah_ , he decided. _New Orleans will be a breeze_.

*.• ° •.*

Lotor had always considered himself a very patient man. Waiting was a virtue he had always had, from the time he was a boy, until he grew into an adult. It was something he took great pride in, considering his line of work.

 _So how is it_ , he thought, _that this bumbling, rich, entitled, ukelele-playing asshole has managed to strum his way on to my last nerve?_

Seriously though, Lotor didn't have time for this moron.

It wasn't the fact that the prince was obviously shallow, vain, and had a complete lack of humility. It wasn't even the fact that he was obnoxious and unpersonable. It was the fact that he was making Lotor's job _too damn easy_.

The obliviousness the prince had shown in the last hour alone was more than Lotor had seen all season. Taking his money would be a cakewalk.

Lotor watched with disdain as the prince and his shapely companion danced rambunctiously with a street band. Subsequently, this ended with the prince's sidekick's head stuck in the tuba. Lotor rolled his eyes the same time he heard the prince start laughing. Juvenile. Both men ended up sprawled across the pavement when the prince had the bright idea to pull his friend from the instrument. Pathetic.

Lotor let out a sigh of contempt. Duty calls.

"Gentlemen!" The honey-sweet tone slipped off Lotor's tongue as he approached the men. With the tip of his hat, he granted them each a winning smile. "Enchanté."

"Uhhh," the larger one so eloquently put. Lotor almost rolled his eyes again right there. Tourists. At least the prince looked intrigued.

He held out a hand, not to help the men up, but to extend his business card to the prince, adding a charming, "How y'all doing?"

Contemplative, the prince took the card and read curiously, "'Tarot readings, fortune tellings, a glimpse in your future'. Achidanza!" He found his way to a standing position and heartily brushed off his jacket. "What else can you do?"

The bigger man did not look so easily convinced. "Lance are you sure you-"

"Hunk! Let go! Have fun!"

Their banter carried on, so immersive that neither man noticed Lotor subtly leading them towards the back alley where his shop was located.

"You asked what I can do!" He interrupted suddenly. "Give me your hand, sir."

Once the prince's- Lance's- hand was situated soundly in Lotor's palm he began to feel a little more in control of the scenario. "Now if I were a betting man- and I'm not, I tend to stay away from those pesky games of chance- I'd say I'm in the presence of royalty."

The look on Lance's face could've brightened a thousand dim rooms. "Hunk, Hunk! Did you see? This remarkable gentleman has just read my palm."

The companion, however, was sneaking around Lotor's back and spotted the paper haphazardly shoved into his back pocket. "Or this morning's newspaper," he grumbled.

Hunk abruptly grabbed the prince by the arm and into some semblance of a private talk. Clearly loud enough to hear, the companion said, "Lance are you sure we should be getting involved with the business of this- this _charlatan_ -"

Lotor could care less what this barrel-chested buffoon thought of him, but when it interfered with the prince? That's where he drew the line.

"Don't you disrespect me, little man!" He shouted at a startled Hunk. "Don't you derogate or deride." While Hunk now looked thouroughly freaked out, the prince, if possible, looked even more invested than before. "You're in my world now not your world." Lotor gave them the tiniest hint of his power: a purple wisp of smoke from his fingers when he snapped. "And I've got friends on the other side."

A duplicate of the same phrase echoed around them. Lotor assured the men that it was just a party trick while ushering them inside the small building.

"Please have a seat, gentlemen. Let us begin." He laid his ornate set of tarot cards on the table while he waited for the men to comply. Tourists were so slow.

He started with the prince. The cards he flipped only solidified what he already knew about the noble; no more spending his parents money, needs to marry a rich girl, yadda yadda. But Lotor had to act like he was interested. Luckily, he was an amazing actor.

"Mom and Dad cut you off, huh pretty boy?"

Lance gave a dramatic shrug. "Eh. Sad but true."

A spider's smile graced Lotor's face. "Now you gotta get hitched. But hitching ties you down. You just wanna be free, hop from place to place!" He moved the cards in tandem.

"But freedom," Lotor threw the cards in the air and they floated down as dollar bills. "takes _green_." The bills fell down over Lance like rain, and his joyous smile only served to widen Lotor's grin.

"And in your future it's the green that I see."

"And what about me?"

Lotor blinked up at Hunk like he'd forgotten he was there. A slow lift of his cheeks was the only indication of a smile. "Why, my boy, you'll be exactly the man you've always wanted to be."

Lotor was sure he heard Hunk mutter something like "cryptic and horrible" under his breath, but he didn't care. As long as Lance was on board, Lotor didn't need the sidekick. He was too loyal to the prince to be useful.

"Shake my hand." His hand extended to both men in kind. "Come on, boys. Won't you shake a poor sinner's hand?"

Lance responded with untapped enthusiasm, while Hunk was understandably more skeptical. Still, neither man shied away from Lotor's awaiting palms. He blew out a candle next to him. Showtime.

"Are you ready?" _Are you ready?_

_Are you ready?_

"Are you ready?"

Flashes of lights sparked his peripheral and burned his back of his eyelids.

Another candle out.

Two snakes appeared from the walls and wrapped themselves firmly around Lance's struggling form.

The prince screamed out when his blood was taken.

Candle out.

The other man wore a horrified expression before promptly passing out from his own snake bite.

The manic grin wouldn't leave Lotor's face.

This was what he lived for.

He blew out two more candles.

"Transformation central!" _Transformation central!_

"Reformation central!" _Reformation central!_

"Transmogrification central!" _Are you ready?_

"You're changing, you're changing, you're changing, alright."

And it was true. Hunk was slumped over unconscious in his chair while Lance was struggling to breathe through his reconfiguration.

Candle out.

"I hope you're satisfied," Lotor told the fast shrinking lump on the parlor floor.

"But if you ain't. Don't blame me. You can blame my friends on the other side!" _You got what you wanted! But you lost what you had!_

The last candle flickered out.

**Author's Note:**

> I've obviously taken liberties here, drop a comment and tell me what you thought!
> 
> Tumblr: @quacksense


End file.
